


Stargazing

by cat_scratch_club



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Post-Reichenbach, Reichenbach Fall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-17
Updated: 2013-09-17
Packaged: 2017-12-26 22:10:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/970858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cat_scratch_club/pseuds/cat_scratch_club
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's John and Sherlock's last night together. What better way to spend it than by looking at the stars?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Last Night

Sherlock's breath fogged in the frigid London air. He reclined, his spine straightening as his head rested against the cool cement. His eyes were wide, scanning the sky.

Sherlock had never believed in a higher power. But tonight, he was looking for something more than stars.

He lay there for a while; the sky slipping from indigo to a rich, deep purple. For once, it was a clear and cloudy night; Sherlock could see almost every star in the sky. He knew he shouldn't be up here. Not tonight. Not when tomorrow was....

He pushed that thought out of his mind. It was too painful. What he had to do...it was unspeakable. And, on top of that, this was his last night with John, but John didn't know it. He'd gone in to the clinic to get a few more hours in. Sherlock couldn't tell him that this would be their last time together. He would be endangering both of them.

John. His name reverberated in Sherlock's mind as he scouted out the big dipper. He'll be all right, Sherlock told himself, his breaths becoming more shallow now. He'll move on. Maybe get married, have kids...maybe he'll think of me once in a while. Or maybe not.

The thought that John might forget him was too agonizing to face. Sherlock had to admit to himself that he was, in fact, only a small part of John's life, even though John was the only person Sherlock had ever truly loved. A solid lump had settled itself in Sherlock's throat, and before he knew it, he was sobbing.

Stop that, Sherlock! Crying is for the weak. Caring is not an advantage. But the tears would not stop. His chest was heaving, and he barely heard the door to the rooftop open as John walked out.

“Sherlock?” 

The detective quickly wiped the tears from his eyes and wrapped his scarf tightly around his neck. “John, you're back early.” 

“Yeah. They said they didn't need me. Why are you up here? It's freezing!” John shivered, still standing in the doorway.

Sherlock closed his eyes again. “I needed to think,” he replied quietly. “Coming up here, it...clears my thoughts.”

John shrugged, then silently came to sit beside the detective. He sat there for a few moments, saying nothing. He glanced over at Sherlock's chest, rising ever so slightly as he inhaled, and falling back down again, cheeks red with cold. 

“Sherlock?” John asked again.

“What, John?” Sherlock snapped, then checked himself. It was their last night together. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to be a bit more...compassionate. “What's on your mind?” he asked, voice softer.

John leaned back until the two were side by side, hips touching. “Do you ever think about...what's out there?”  
Sherlock scoffed. “What do you mean?”

John sheepishly propped himself up on an elbow. “Y'know. Out there. Beyond us. Beyond our world. Do you ever wonder if there's someone...watching over us?”

Sherlock rubbed his temples. “No, I don't.” His blue eyes were cold. “I believe in a benevolent metaphysical being no more than I believe that humans were meant to fly.”

John shrank back. “Oh.”

Sherlock turned toward him. “Do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Believe in...something more.”

John sighed. “I'd like to.” He looked up again at the stars, and suddenly, Sherlock felt the warmth of John's hand in his own. It was a strange feeling; John's palms were calloused and his fingers were short, but Sherlock did not recoil, in fact, he leaned in a little to John. 

Both men lay silently under the expanse of the stars. John closed his eyes, his head resting against Sherlock's shoulder. A single tear slipped down Sherlock cheek as he thought of what tomorrow would bring. He squeezed John's hand a little tighter, feeling as though he was very, very small.


	2. Two Weeks Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two weeks later, John returns to the rooftop. This time, he is alone.

Two weeks later, John Watson pushed open the door to the rooftop. The cold air sliced through him, threatening to tear him apart if he took another step forward. The army doctor was used to harrowing situations, but trudging across the cold pavement had to have been the most difficult task he had yet encountered. His legs, detached from his reeling mind, carried him to the spot where they had been lying on that night.

Their hands.

The stars.

The total feelings of peace.

And then...nothing.

John looked up at the sky. One star shined brighter than all the others, and he hoped in his heart of hearts that somewhere, somehow- Sherlock was looking at it too.


End file.
